


God is dead

by othersin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angels are monsters, Angels vs. Demons, Angst, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dark, Depression, Eldritch, Fallen Angels, Gore, M/M, Sad Ending, Suicide, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin
Summary: The apocalypse was stopped but it didn't stop the ineffable departure of god from our world - nor the effects of that departure on the closest to the almighty's grace.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Michael/Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 46





	God is dead

* * *

God is dead.

Crowley stared at the crude red graffiti sprawled in red under the bridge – the dull sound of sirens filled the burning and dying city, the cataclysm of the fallout of the apocalypse that never was. No one foretold nor was it in the ineffable plan.

A large canvas bag stuffed full of items of use, not above looting like the frantic humans with sunken and lost eyes – desperate to fight for survival still, never mind the silent prayers had ceased to be answered.

Demons and the fallen were for once thankful that they were severed from the grace of god – no one really thought what would happen to the creatures still tried to her energy, like a babe attached from a umbilical cord in the womb of creation would react when the almighty was finally no more. How would a baby react when the mother died?

Humans reacted to the absence with violence and chaos, destroying themselves with no higher being to reign them in, demons were just getting overwhelmed – no one was getting into heaven anymore with no angels to open the gates anymore. A forced abortion, a still born or something worse – the heavenly host in one last bid to quarantine the damage but what else could it do. The angels that were to be created were not what angels should be and the angels that survived…they were not well at all.

God is dead, but those she left behind stayed to suffer in the absence of her.

Crowley quickly darted into the shadows when a large feathery shadow flew above – a inhuman screech that was more animal than divine heralded the coming of such an aborted creature, blackness dripped from above – grace turned to corruption.

The rapture spoke of meeting god and not of all manner of creatures of hell, but the truth is the skies still belonged to the abandoned angels – lost in their despair and madness, a demon would be suicidal to even attempt to take flight.

Crowley waited till the shadow passed, the hovering threat being distracted by the distant shuffling of a group of humans – screaming in the distance at the sight of the ineffable creature. Crowley paused for a moment, staring in abject horror of the family that tried to flee from the reaching taloned hands, too many hands – a baby being grabbed as the mother held them protectively in their arms, the mother tried to hold desperately to their child and was lifted into the air too – the baby’s wails echoed in the abandoned city till in the scuffle it died from an broken neck.

Crowley clenched his fist; this was not a time of reckless miracles or demonic magic – in another time and another place he would’ve tried to stop the horror began to unfold before him but he needed to live another day.

He just wanted another day.

It was the woman’s husband, grabbing his wife to pull away from the powerful beast – the tug of war between mortal and immortal had quickly come to the end when the ineffable monster tore the babe in half, dropping the mother and her husband on the ground with the other half bleeding and sprayed with the infants blood into the dirt as it quickly flew off.

The silence filled with horrified screams, broken and dissolute – Crowley turned away, the human was going to attract more angels with that noise. Maybe the other wanted that, wanted to be taken too.

Crowley continued on his trek – more demons had walked on the surface in the wake of the chaos that unfurled but they made certain to stay out of sight of the patrolling angels, no longer able to determine human and demon. The once bustling town was silent and smoke filled from the burning shops, the scent of decay and woe hang heavily in the downtown suburb of London, unwilling to walk through there again he turned to go through the park – it was a little surprising to see the lord of flies, Beelzebub sitting in the park that the serpent recalled he and Aziraphale were taken from.

That seemed so long ago now. The whole idea of sides just seemed childish now – it didn’t even matter anymore.

Crowley froze at how the other was covered in blackness, golden blood, cooing as they patted the creature with a gentleness unbecoming of the prince of hell – the large feathered lump that breathed raggedly and harshly, demonic lances and evidence of human weapons had torn and pinned though the corrupted angels long feathered neck. Bony horns, or a bony ring mimicked that of the others former halo; the pure grace crystallized in that shape during the others severing from the almighty’s grace.

The other looked emancipated, parts of its lean body that weren’t covered by feathers had pale skin pulled taught other an elongated skeletal structure – its wide and pain filled eyes were a blazing violet still, the feathers a barely hinted tone of lavender. It looked more bird like crossed with that of a feathered dragon of myth – Beelzebub continued to stroke the others feathered mane, shushing as the inky blackness bubbled from the wounds and the low hiss and sizzle of the demonic weapons.

The prince was unguarded and red had stained their cheeks where the tears carved their path, a scene that Crowley felt he shouldn’t interrupt – he was about to leave and hope the other didn’t notice but to no avail.

“He was quite good at the paperwork side of things, you know.” Beelzebub sobbed out, “He was relatively the easiest and least annoying out of all the archangels…”

“Beelzebub…” Crowley began, uncertain where to even begin with his former boss.

“Imagine, if he saw himself like this – he wouldn’t stand for it.” The prince of flies wiped at their eyes at the bitter chuckle that escaped her petite corporation, “He would be so embarrassed.”

Beelzebub sniffled and said very crossly at the former archangel,

“You are very unseemly at the moment Gabriel.” Beelzebub snarled, reprimanding the other, “You have to pull yourself together…”

She got very quiet then, Crowley could only assume what the other said from the mouth movements, “Please, I can’t do this alone…”

Any other confessions she had further uttered to the angel was ignored by the tempter of Eden. Offering the other some privacy to the others raw and bloody feelings, Crowley understood the need for silent company as the other continued their silent weeping for what was lost and of what could no longer be.

The low chattering noise escaped the former archangel – eyes wild and filled with dark animalistic fear seemed to clear for a moment, seemingly just realizing the demon sat crouched in fount of them. The ghost of remembrance lingered for a moment before the eyes blazed violet and clumsily tried to leap at the other to attack with fanged maw open to maul – Beelzebub fell backwards at the sudden movement, Crowley darted forward and pulled the other away by the cuff of the others shirt.

Never mind how rude it was to manhandle the other demon, and in any other circumstance the other would kill a demon for even attempting such a thing – but this was not any of those other circumstance.

Gabriel got a mouth full of dirt rather than the demons head to crunch on instead – pulling backwards even as the others body tried to push out the lances or even heal the wounds around the weapons, he struggled for a bit before slumping with a long drawn out cry.

Beelzebub pulled away from Crowley harshly and went back to the other that tried to attack her – the others pain echoed though the demons very being and the once green grass that filled the park died beneath the mess of feathers and eternal torment.

“I just wanted to win…I didn’t want this.” Beelzebub said quietly, as the park slowly died around them.

“…”

“I found him nesting here, I think he remembers jogging in the park – one of the imps that were attacked here described him to me, you have no idea how long I searched for him, I knew it was him the moment I saw him.” The demon lord smiled in sad fondness

“…” Crowley looked on the sad scene.

“There had been cases of the angels remembering, and Gabriel had been so strong…so I thought…” Beelzebub frowned, shoulders slumping, “I was wrong though.”

“He was closest to the light, the moment it went out…” Crowley offered, the angels closest to her light were still in heaven – souls ripped apart constantly or even ceasing to exist, destroying the mortal souls that reside there for good. It had been Lucifer and a few other demons that attempted to pull them at least to the human realm or limbo before heaven fell.

But there were so many that had been lost, no chance of rebirth – just nothingness.

“I wonder if the other archangels are okay, Lucifer had sensed Michael but we haven’t been able to find her.”

“He is looking for her?” Crowley whispered, the inexplicable bond between the two were not often referred to but the two were twins – a soul born and ripped apart before they could fully form. Crowley remembered in the past, the energy that surrounded them as they walked though heavens halls at a more innocent time.

“He has decided she would not want to spend eternity like this – the last kindness he will show, and I happen to agree with him.” Beelzebub wiped her eyes and sniffled, she watched her angelic double writhe in pain and whine.

“And Gabriel?” Crowley asked, realizing that it was not just a teary reunion he had stumbled upon – the guilt of such an act gnawed at them, he just clutched the bag tighter.

“I thought it would be easy, I caught him and I had it all planned – I even had the hellfire ready but…” Beelzebub stared helplessly at their hands, trembling and dripping in inky blackness and shimmering golden blood.

It was left unsaid, but she couldn't do it.

“I wanted to tell him, so many things I wanted to tell him throughout the years, thought once I got it off my chest – maybe he’ll get better?” Beelzebub said, in vague but manic hopefulness to the former traitor of hell.

“Beelzebub…”

“He’ll have to get better, he’s archangel fucking Gabriel – I’ll take him with me, I can make him comfortable, we’ll take it day by day…” She was speaking quickly, almost convincing herself in her mania that it was a sound plan.

“Beelzebub!” Crowley hissed out, grabbing the other’s shoulders and shook her slightly, the other demon – her wild eyes finally focusing on him.

“How will he get better, this is not a case of feather blight – the Gabriel you love is gone, for good, they can only return as that form.” Crowley couldn’t stop his own sobs, “I won’t lie, there are some days you can see them there – behind the veil, trying to tell you they are still there and they still love you but those days just get farther and farther apart…”

Tears continued to stream down his cheeks, it was not Gabriel he was talking about.

“It hurts more than falling.” Crowley hatefully ignored the tears dripping down his face, “Would Gabriel allow you to be seen like that?”

If the demons had turned beast, wouldn’t the angels have stopped at nothing to destroy the threat with no questions asked – would Aziraphale have destroyed Crowley if he had lost his mind if it meant protecting humanity? Crowley would like to think so, it would make him feel less wretched.

“No, he would strike me down quickly…” The prince of flies muttered turning back to the creature that gnawed at the hell iron, screeching when the infernal metal burned their still divine body. They fell into a strange silence; the lord of flies’ eyes searched the other for a moment and down to the golden wedding band on the demon’s finger.

“With the whole apocalypse thing…” Beelzebub offered gently, “You two had the right idea in the end.”

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an apology that the other would offer but Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“And look where that got us.” Crowley gestured around him.

“You had 6000 years with Aziraphale…” The prince continued, a sense of bitter jealously of the time they had wasted themselves.

“I would have preferred eternity.” Crowley answered, rubbing his ring – it felt cold to the touch.

Beelzebub looked like they were going to say something else, but really what else could they say. She had turned away, concentrating for a moment till hellfire had been summoned – Gabriel seemed to recognize what it was, a complete and utter eradication of his corrupted celestial form; for a creature staring death in the face they seemed to still and almost relax at the tearful expression on the demons face. Hellfire making the ruby red tears shimmer and sparkle like rubies against the others alabaster skin

“I think I would prefer to be alone for this part, being here will do no good for anyone and you have your own burden to bare…I hope that you return to hell, but I’ll understand if you don’t.” Beelzebub snapped in their usual way, ignoring the fact they cried in front of the other so openly – but who was Crowley going to tell, who the fuck even cared anymore.

Crowley didn’t even want to chance seeing the other be set ablaze nor did he want to hear the screams – he risked using a miracle to appear at the doorway of Aziraphale’s shop, compared with the rest of smoky and war-torn street the bookshop seemed to be in one piece.

His use of demonic magic seemed to stir the attentions of the feeding frenzy of formerly angelic creatures – smaller and more of a land only creature with how the malformed and featherless the wings were, some hanging broken and some of the bones just didn’t seem right. One of them that teared at the guts of a human turned to him - face peeling back showing off rows and rows of shark like teeth, in a rumbling hiss at him but another of the other angels tried to pull the carcass awhile causing the others attention to shift back to the tugging beast which it fought back.

Crowley took the others distraction and entered into the threshold of the bookshop – claw marks and knocked over books was what awaited him, the once treasured books had been pulled out and torn apart. Crowley clutched his bag of goods harder as he entered the once comforting place, pausing at the red stain on the Persian rug, the black tar substance that he had attempted to clean up and the still broken box that had sweets within had molded and began to rot.

* * *

_“Aziraphale, I got you some of the cakes you like” Crowley sang, holding a cake box only to freeze at the sight of the other having a seizure – coughing up the thick black substance like diseased phylum. Crowley dropped the cake, never minding how the box burst and the little petite fours scattered – moving to his husband and rolling him to the side to clear his corporation’s airway._

_“Angel, my angel…” Crowley helplessly held the other, red tears brimmed the corners of his bleary eyes – blue eyes finally focusing on Crowley. The heaving finally stopped, the tar like substance smelt of rot and decay and it most certainly didn’t belong in the angel’s body – Aziraphale grabbed the others hand that held him, his own ringed hand twining with the demons own._

_“My love…” Crowley cried hopefully, trying to keep the others lucidness._

_“She’s gone…” Aziraphale sobbed, tears falling freely._

_“Gone?” Crowley muttered, trying to make sense of the others mutterings._

_“She’s gone…” Aziraphale repeated, drifting off into an uneasy coma._

_That is when earth went to hell in a basket and never came back. He had been promptly invited back to hell in an emergency meeting – God is gone, she has left, she died. It was all touch a go from there, the panic of the situation and the first-time angels were seen in their newly corrupted forms. Gone were hiding from humans, they were attacking humans as well as well as killing demons._

_The demons didn’t come back, and the human souls were destroyed utterly._

_And when Aziraphale awoke, he wasn’t his Aziraphale anymore._

* * *

Crowley took a steadying breath, and went to the back room of the bookshop that had been used as a kitchen or a place the other kept the kettle – scampering was heard above him, talons against wood as per usual, Aziraphale hid the moment the demon entered. He placed the precious cargo from his bag, an odd-looking herb that grew in the outskirts of the second ring of hell. It smelt of aniseed and something vaguely demonic, he stared at it with a little unease but reminding himself what he needed to do – he pulled out the coffee grinder that Aziraphale had brought for Crowley when the other kept on using a phone book to crush his coffee beans, feeding the herbs to the blades till it was a runny paste. He mixed it with some water for it to the right consistency. Crowley ignored the rising bile at sight of the green sludge, pulling out a favourite bottle of both his and Aziraphale’s wine and a sterile packaged syringe – after a moment, he opened the package and took off the plastic protective nib that protected the needle lowering the needle in the bitter medicine and pulled the plunger to draw about 20 ml. Like he was measuring cough syrup when he looked after Warlock as the little boys Nanny (he hoped the boy was okay) but he couldn’t linger on that.

Raised the needle to the sealed bottle, hand trembling slightly but he stilled it, sharply exhaling when he had punctured the bottle and plunged the hellish concoction – spiking the wine. He made sure every drop had entered the ruby red wine before pulling the needle away and letting it clatter in the sink, being careful to press a finger to against the tiny hole and swirl it gently.

The easy part has been done, Crowley had pulled a box of biscuits his husband loves – even in the state he is in now, even rivalling the others new found love of red meat, the rarer the better. He stared at the last item he had, the tartan patterned thermos that was given to him in the 70’s by Aziraphale – a abandoned church had still a relatively clean holy water that he had been able to salvage. He left that down below, the holy energy vibrated though the thin metal – he had picked up as an after thought when he finally figured out what he was going to do but it didn’t stop him from feeling like the worst of the worst.

He took the biscuits and the neck of the wine bottle and made his way up the stairs and into the bedroom turned nest of his husband – the shredded remains of his once beloved books lay in shambles around the bookshelves and the door to the others room had been ripped off and placed back. The others four posted bed had been broken and mattress torn apart, the long feathered tailed tucked into away suddenly, the downy white feathers not just from the mattress however – the only way that the demon knew Aziraphale was in the room was the feather cacoon and his many eyes shone in the darkness of the room. Eyes watching him carefully like a wary cat – maw opening and hissing as Crowley attempted to take a closer step, Crowley smiled gently and sat on the floor letting the other come out when they were ready.

“Happy anniversary love, you know those biscuits you like.” Crowley shook the box and placed it next to him – food was still the angel’s weakness, if the other fell the other would be a demon of gluttony. Crowley tried to ignore the fact if he had caused the other to fall, the other would still have their preferred form and mind – he really can’t think like that.

“Tell you what, it was difficult to find – the humans had taken most of the good stuff but found them and your favourite bottle of red.” Crowley shook the drugged wine with an uneasy smile – the vibrant eyes blinked at him slowly, emerging from the slanted door way of his borrow or nest. While Aziraphale was pleasant and chubby in human form his corporation had been forced to purge the extra baggage the other carried so well throughout the years, he was not as large or as long as Gabriel but he seemed to make up for his length with a long trailing tail – his body was dotted with blinking eyes that were at times frightened or animalistic and mindless, white feathers covered his body in fluff and had long tuffs of feathers by the top of his head.

His face looked almost wolf like compared with the more reptilian or amphibian that prowled the streets – Aziraphale flared his majestic wings when he fully emerged, feathers raising and hackles rising, trying to make himself appear bigger.

The other didn’t have to try – the other was strong before and now he had the agility of a beast, if the other really wanted to he could very well attack and kill the serpent. Depending on the others mood, Crowley had previously been able to shift to snake form – the other not really paying any mind to the other as a large serpent and sometimes the other even allowed him to coil under his wing and even groom him (he missed his angel, any affection, he craved it) but it seemed the other was in one of these moods where if he attempted such a thing that he would be ripped to shreds.

“I know, I promised to take you to France for today – but it’s a nightmare at the moment…so maybe next time. “Crowley cracked a pitiful excuse for a joke as the other stalked closer, wings lowering just barely.

“Hey gorgeous.” Crowley summoned a glass for himself and a bowl for the other, uncorking the wine – the smell seemed to clear the others eyes for a moment, recognizing the drink as the other poured him a full bowl of it. The others defensive stance softened as the other happily sat by the box – the tea biscuit box being ripped open easily by the others talons, Crowley felt his mind go back to the bloody carnage that he witnessed. The other easily ripped apart the inner plastic bag to get to the biscuits and happily munched on them, Crowley noticed the other had favoured his left paw…claw?

Crowley felt he overfilled his own glass accidentally when he saw the glinting of the others wedding ring, the severe shift of the others body had made the band to cut into the flesh painfully.

“Oh, hey…I can help you remove that.” Crowley said, even though it hurt so much to say – Crowley raised a hand to attempt to remove the ring, a flash of blue eyes, screech and a snap at the demon who barely flinched.

“Oi, you don’t have to act like that.” Crowley huffed, the other just missed his hand, Aziraphale just stared at him and at his sore paw – sitting in a way so it was tucked under his plumage to deter the others wondering hands. The glint of the Crowley’s ring seemed to catch their attention from the crunchy cardboard however – moving closer to Crowley, the low rumbling, like a purr seemed to vibrate the air around them.

The animalistic cloudiness seemed to fade, Aziraphale returning briefly.

“Hey, welcome back…”

Aziraphale whined, nuzzling against the other, unable to embrace the other like he used to before- Crowley buried his head against the fluffiness, dreaming of warm jumpers and overly steeped tea. He loved this so the other would not see the tears showing again, Aziraphale always got frantic when the other did start crying – the others instinct to nurture the other when the other was sad was to bundle him up and curl his wings around him. Aziraphale cooed quizzically at the trembling demon, resting their head on the demon, Crowley pulled away wiping his face smiling a sad smile at the other the former bipedal angel stared confused but finding his gaze like old times.

Aziraphale then stared at the crimson wine, nose winkling at the underling hint of something bitter that he could sense, eyes vaguely searching Crowley’s yellow snake ones – he knew, Crowley felt ill at the expression in those eyes. Relief, sadness but so much love.

“Hey, I don’t know when you will be back – but I really love you and I want you to know how much I love you.” Crowley said, holding the others face in place – Aziraphale nuzzled the other more desperately, there own eyes began to cry. Lines of crimson streaking the white feathers, and the sorrowful whimpers were enough to for Crowley wrap his arms around the other.

“I dosed the wine with devils lace – it will cause human, demon or angel to numb the senses; it should numb the body enough not to feel pain…” Crowley explained quietly, the other pulling away sharply.

Aziraphale was still lucid enough to continue to consider the drugged wine, looking back to the demon.

“Hellfire should still…destroy your soul and holy water should destroy mine…” Crowley continued, Aziraphale just looked so accepting of it, moving forward to lick at the others tears – attempting their own non-verbal ‘I love you’.

Aziraphale began to lap up the drink as Crowley watched as the angel disappeared again in the haze of the corruption that wrapped their mind.

“See you on the other side love…” Crowley raise a glass in cheers as he too began to drink.

Crowley held the others head in his lap, the bowl half empty when the affects fully kicked in, as he continued to stroke the others beautiful wings, the angel relaxed and drugged into such a state that it just continued to purr happily – barely noticing how the others hands sizzled and burned with hellfire nor how the others wine glass had been filled instead with holy water.

* * *

please leave a kudos and comment if you liked my dears :)


End file.
